Behind Closed Doors
by The lunatic who cares
Summary: What you hear from behind closed doors should remain behind closed doors, however loud it is. Shame Prowl doesn't know that. G1. Crack. Madness. Drunk Mechs and everything that entails. Chapter 2 - Aftermath for Prowl and Jazz
1. Perceptor and Blaster

**Title:** Behind Closed Doors  
**Disclaimer:** Transformers isn't mine, cause otherwise they'd be doing this more often XD  
**Notes:** Um this is madness ok? You've been warned. This song came on... my brain had a mad moment. This could just be taken as mechs being far too drunk for their own good or slash. I'm going slash because I _love_ this pair. The song used is Nickelback's Burn It To The Ground.

-

Prowl could hear the thumping bass three corridors away and he swore the rec room doors were twitching in their frames as he approached them. He braced himself before he opened them and stepped inside. The black and white stopped dead after just two strides. Around the room were scattered mechs, all with a cube of high grade in hand.

The twins were half on the floor cheering, Bluestreak was already unconscious next to them. Jazz and Blaster were propped against each other on one of the couches, laughing so hard they were having trouble making their intakes work properly. The mech in the centre of the floor was the cause behind the merriment and Prowl noted dully that someone had taken the time to clear the floor of table and chairs to provide a dancing area.

Perceptor, like the others, had a cube in one hand, though his was mostly empty with the contents all over his chassis. His arms were raised above his head as he danced along to the thudding rhythm and Prowl was vaguely aware of just how in time to the music the scientist actually was. His whole body arched and weaved as he kept moving, legs twirling him round and it seemed to be deliberately provocative. Prowl couldn't work out at who he was aiming his moves but Perceptor could sing _really _well.

"Oh, we got no class, no taste, no shirt and shit faced! We got it lined up, shot down, firing back straight crown!"

As he hit what Prowl assumed was the chorus from how Jazz and Blaster joined in with the backing 'hey's, between the sniggering, the saboteur propelled the red mech onto the dance floor next to Perceptor. The dancing red mech grinned at Blaster, optics shinning far too brightly and he threw his cube over his shoulder. It bounced off the wall next to Prowl, sprinkling him with the remains of the high grade.

Prowl felt his mouth drop open when the guitar solo started up and Perceptor hauled Blaster in way too close. Blaster happily grabbed Perceptor back and the pair started really moving together. The red body parts became indistinguishable for a few moments and Jazz started whistling from the sidelines. Blaster chuckled lowly as the music did and did something with body that had the scientist arching into him. As Perceptor started singing again the pair moved so Blaster had his front pressed to Perceptor's back and the scientist was leaning against him as they matched their dancing.

"We're going off tonight to kick out every light. Take anything that we want, drink everything in sight!"

The tactician was damn sure that the pair shouldn't be hip grinding in the middle of the rec room and that Blaster's hands shouldn't be where they were. He was also positive Jazz shouldn't be encouraging this and that whoever had given Bluestreak High Grade was going into the brig right _now_. The SIC was also determined to find out who had got Perceptor this drunk and started all this.

Unfortunately for Prowl his CPU also decided that the whole sight was far too illogical to even try to start to understand and it froze just as Perceptor and Blaster belted out the last line together.

"While we burn it to the ground tonight!"

The last drum beat was echoed by a clang as Prowl hit the floor out cold. Everyone stared at the flatten tactician in the doorway before Jazz stated,

"I think we need t' find Prowl a cube!"


	2. Prowl and Jazz

**Chapter 2  
Notes:** I had several requests for another chapter for this, though I suspect this wasn't quite what you had in mind... me neither! I wrote this when Bryan Adam's If Ya Wanna Be Bad, Ya Gotta Be Good/Let's Make A Night To Remember came on. It just struck me as a song Jazz would enjoy, or at least in my head he does! This was also done as a break from me beating my head trying to finish Earth, Wind and Fire.

Jazz hummed softly as he walked along the corridor. His footsteps were slightly out of synch, partially due to the high grade in his system, mostly, though, due to the still unconscious tactician hanging off his shoulders. The saboteur wasn't tall enough to lift Prowl completely off the ground, so the tips of his pedes were dragging along the ground but Jazz reckoned the other black and white would forgive him that in exchange for not waking up in the Med Bay with a furious Ratchet standing over him. The smaller black and white keyed in Prowl's entry code for his room door, grinning as he remembered this was a new one he wasn't suppose to have.

"Ya gotta think outside the box Prowler, if ya don't want meh breakin' ya code this easily," Jazz told his unconscious companion as he shuffled sideways through the doorway.

Gently the saboteur deposited Prowl on his berth, mindful of the doorwings that were flopping around, and eventually got him settled on his side. He patted the SIC's white helm once he was in what looked like a comfortable position and started humming again. Jazz turned his music player on, reasonably low for him, and shuttered his optics, head bobbing along. He knew if he wasn't taking Prowl to med bay he had to stay until the tactician came back online, just to make sure he hadn't fried anything important and sometimes that involved a long wait. To Jazz there was no better way to pass the time but with music.

_Central Processing Unit rebooting._

_Time to completion… 5 nano-seconds_

_Central Processing Unit reboot complete._

Prowl onlined his optics slowly, wary of what he might see. He remembered all too well what had knocked him out in the first place and didn't want to relive the sight. The first thing he realised that he was back in his own room, which was a relief, though it raised the question of how, since very few had his entry code. The second thing he saw confirmed who had returned him to his room, though Prowl was slagging sure Jazz shouldn't have his code.

The third thing that registered was the fact that Jazz was dancing around his room, singing, and doing both extremely well. Prowl felt he should say something, let Jazz know he was now awake and he didn't have to stay, but he was captivated by the swaying body and lyrical voice. The songs flowed effortlessly from one to another as Jazz changed them to suit himself and Prowl wasn't surprised when a guitar solo took over. It was when it changed down into a low sultry key he blinked.

Jazz changed his movements, arms coming up over his head, showing off the lines of his chassis, and his hips started gyrating to the beat. His pedes moved him in a slow circle, giving Prowl one pit of a view of his aft. Then Jazz started singing, low and smooth,

"He's got a nasty reputation 'n a talent for sin. He's the kinda trouble I like t' be in. I wanna be a lover. I wanna be a slave. He's the kind 'o mech, makes me wanna misbehave."

Prowl realised Jazz was changing the lyrics when he said mech, because he recognised it was an earth song and no human music had lyrics like that. Why would he be changing the lyrics? That was answered when Jazz opened his optics and looked straight at Prowl.

"So give it what ya want boy, let's make it understood. If ya wanna be bad, ya gotta be good."

The black and white dancing on the floor smiled at the other's look of astonishment. He had heard Prowl's systems power up and decided to give the mech a little private treat. Jazz had always liked Prowl and had been waiting for some way, some excuse, to show him just how he felt. Pit, he liked dancing anyway, even if it got him nothing but stares from Prowl.

The tactician slowly sat up, never taking his optics off Jazz. The third in command knew he was good looking, though he wasn't vain about it, and Prowl could appreciate the lines of his chassis, but he had always chosen to do so from a distance. They had an army to keep in line and neither of them could do to be distracted by each other, but Jazz was dancing for him, in his room and Prowl would be a fool not to value that, especially since it came just after seeing Blaster and Perceptor. It couldn't be a clearer invitation.

"If ya lookin' for trouble, better get it from meh, so get on ya knees boy, 'n do what ya should. If ya wanna be bad, yeah ya gotta be good."

Jazz slowly sauntered across the floor to where Prowl was now standing, watching him with avid optics. He held out his hands, which Prowl took, and led him away from the berth as he blended the song he was singing into the next one, drawing out the instrumental solo. Jazz danced around Prowl, one moment pressing himself into the other mech, the next twirling away, until he started singing again.

"Let's make a night t' remember, January t' December. Let's make love t' excite us, a memory t' ignite us. Let's make honey baby, soft 'n tender. Let's make sugar darlin', sweet, sweet surrender."

Black hands reached out and circled one white waist and after a moment white hands returned the favour, leaving the mechs pressed together swaying softly. Prowl leaned his head down to rest it against Jazz's, just enjoying being this close to the other mech and listening to him sing.

"Let's make a night t' remember. Let's make love t' excite us. Let's make a night t' remember, oh love, love."

Jazz drew out the last word, raising his head as he did so, until their faces were nearly touching and as soon as he ended the note he pressed his lips to Prowls. The other mech tightened his grip on Jazz and held him close.

Just outside the door Sideswipe smirked at his twin,

"Told you Jazz would sing and dance for Prowl."

Sunstreaker smacked him.


End file.
